


A Heart of Razor Wire

by FlutteringPhalanges



Category: X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Family Drama, Hints of Possible Logan Relationship Opportunities, Multi, Mutant Powers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-22
Updated: 2017-05-26
Packaged: 2018-10-09 08:36:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10408197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlutteringPhalanges/pseuds/FlutteringPhalanges
Summary: An alternate universe in which the X-Men infiltrate the mutant research center, Transigen, and rescue the children within. It is there that Logan is introduced to an infant identified only as X-23. This story follows the plot idea of how life would unfold if Logan raised Laura from infancy and the events that would follow suit.





	1. Preface

**Author's Note:**

> So basically, for those who follow me on tumblr, I have a gifset series that revolves around the idea of Logan having raised Laura since infancy after the X-Men infiltrated the Transigen. With this in mind, I thought it wouldn’t hurt to play around with the concept. Let me know your thoughts and maybe this can become a thing.

He’s not sure what’s worse, the numbness that has suddenly overcome his body or the nausea that threatens deep within the pit of his stomach to shoot burning, bile laced vomit out. Maybe a little of each. Or all of that and more. Whatever the case, Logan could not pull his gaze away from the sight that stood before him. 

From a glance, the small, metal cage resembled that of an animal trap. Something a gardener might set out to nab a pesky creature like a raccoon or squirrel. But the creature that wriggled within, its cries meek and pitiful, was far from anything one might stumble upon. A baby. 

The infant was all but naked, sporting only a diaper as she squirmed on her back. She was pink, face scrunched as she cried out, her wails sharp daggers that penetrated mercilessly against his eardrums. The strong smell of rust and metallic material met the mutant’s nostrils as he stepped closer. A scent he unfortunately knew all too well. 

Adamantium. 

The thick, yellow band that went around her ankle only served as a label. X-23. That was her only identification. No name. Nothing more. Just X-23. And yet, there was something about her that extended so much further than that. Something that linked the little being before Logan to himself. She was his daughter. 

He had only learned of his parenthood when Charles had discovered it right before the agreement to infiltrate the research facility. He didn’t believe it. He didn’t want to. But here she was. Screaming. Writhing. So little. So small. So completely, utterly helpless. 

Wolverine stood absolutely still, drawing in a breath as he stared at the infant. He couldn’t move, or just didn’t bother to try to. Shock. Anger. Fear. He wasn’t sure what he felt right now, or really what he should feel. The baby’s cries fell on deaf ears as Logan remained hovering over her enclosure, unable to snap himself from this vegetative state. 

“Logan.”

The voice jolts him back to the conscious world as a hand touches his shoulder. He wheels around, claws extended in defense mood when he comes face to face with Ororo Storm. She takes an immediate step back as Logan retracts his claws, too disoriented to apologize. 

“We have to go,” she said, a hand on his shoulder clearly intended for bringing him back to focus. “We have to get the baby out of here.” 

“Yeah,” he exhaled, closing his eyes for a moment. “Yeah, alright.”

He doesn’t move when Storm goes to try to get the baby out from her prison. The sound of the cage rattling against the table causes the infant girl to shriek even louder. Looking in desperation towards Logan, she nods towards the lock that prevents her from freeing the baby. Logan would most likely be the only one to open it, at least until they got back to the mansion. But the poor thing didn’t need to be put through even more trauma by having to stay in the damn thing during the flight back. 

“Logan!”

The other mutant comes back to his senses once more, seeing at once what the weather manipulating mutant was asking of him. Quickly, he drew his claws through the lock, the metal making a loud crack as it hit the floor. Without a second thought, Storm scooped up the baby before she and Logan both began to run.

Many voices seemed to be coming through each corridor, which were of his friends or his enemies was unclear to Logan. They continued to hurry, his eyes briefly flickering over to the infant in Storm’s arms. Her tiny frame was nearly invisible by the way Ororo’s clothing draped over her. So small. So delicate. Too vulnerable. 

Focus. Focus. Goddammit, why couldn’t he focus?! 

He nearly stumbles and falls when they sprint up the ramp of the Blackbird, the entrance closing behind them. There is a wave of young, new mutants that are crammed side by side among the other X-Men. All of the children they had managed to retrieve from the research facility. Christ knows how many were lost before hand. But that question and more were the least important things on his mind. 

Storm squeezes beside him right as the jet lifts off. Logan knows Jean and Scott are watching him. Hank too when he isn’t tending to the other kids. Charles reading his mind. But all he is able to do is numbly stare at the baby by his side. At how her wails have become small hiccups. At her dark brown eyes and hair, or what little there is. And he cannot help but feel the nausea and numbness twist inside his gut. 

So tiny. So small. His.


	2. Chapter One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys enjoy! Comments, kudos, etc. are really appreciated!

Beer number three. Lukewarm. In clear view to the other older mutants, specifically Charles, who maintain the rule that any sort of alcohol-with perhaps the exception of cooking wine-was prohibited. But no one utters a word as he chugs the amber liquid from its bottle. He's even too preoccupied to even be pissed off at himself for forgetting to put it in the damn fridge.

Instead, Logan just sits there, back against the wall-discomfort be damned-watching silently as Hank McCoy examines the infant on one of the mansion's clinic tables. With Jean's examinations on all of the other new mutant children completed-thankfully none having suffered any serious injuries-the room is now all but empty, its only occupants now Logan, Hank, Storm, Charles, and of course, X-23.

"I know, I know," Hank murmurs, carefully collecting the drop of blood he had drawn from the now displeased baby's heel. "Trust me, I am not enjoying this either."

Logan's quiet as the doctor puts the chest piece of his stethoscope to the infant's chest. A few moments pass before Hank gives a nod, his attention now flickering towards the other adults in the room. He pulls the headset from his ears before allowing it to fall and rest around his neck. Exhaling through his nose, his eyes meet Charles's.

"Despite the circumstances, she seems to be healthy." He pauses, looking back at the infant before adding. "Much of that can be contributed to the fact that she shares your healing abilities, Logan. Among other things."

Logan doesn't respond as Hank bundles X-23 up tightly, the baby seemingly becoming much more at ease and even sleepy from this. Charles wheels himself forward, eyeing the baby with the utmost interest. With great delicacy, he reaches forward to lay the tips of his fingers on her head. He isn't reading her mind, she's far too young to have much conscious thought, but merely touches her out of a strange combination of affection and fascination.

"Incredible," he murmurs before diverting his attention to the others. "I can't say I've ever come across a mutant so young that has already begun to display their mutation. Under these circumstances, I suppose it differs than a mutant child naturally conceived but," he turns back to X-23, gingerly brushing his fingers over what little, dark hair she has. "Stunning nonetheless."

A feeling of light resentment resonates within Logan at Charles's words. Though he knows the man did not mean it to sound so, the professor's words still burn sour in his mind, as if he views the baby as more as a scientific phenomenon than what she truly is. A child with a more traumatic history than most of the other children of the Xavier's School. And the poor kid was a few months, at most.

*My apologies, Logan, I didn't realize how inconsiderate I sounded.*

Logan snaps back to reality the moment the professor's words buzz in his ear. He grits his teeth, even more irritated now with the man in his head. Again, it isn't Charles's fault, but Logan needs someone to blame, and at the moment, the poor professor just happens to be in his line of fire.

*Get out of my head.* He thinks as loud as he can, watching as Charles flinches at the unexpected volume of the man's response.

"So what happens now?" Storm asks, finally entering into the conversation-if one would consider it that. "We haven't ever had a child so young at the school before. We aren't even well prepared for the new students. None of us were expecting the size of mutants in the facility until we completed the rescue. Jean and I will figure out, along with the older students, how sleeping arrangements will work out. But that doesn't help with the baby."

It's incredibly predictable what Logan knows will be asked of him next. He doesn't meet Charles's stare when the telepath looks to him. Thankfully, the next statement is not heard from inside his head, but Logan soon realizes that perhaps that might have been better. A lot better. At least mind conversations couldn't be heard by others. Those conversations couldn't put him on the spot and make him feel like a dumbass.

*"She's your daughter, Logan," Charles states. "Perhaps she could stay with you. At least until she's bigger. I don't think it's wise to have her share a room with the other students. I'd worry about her safety. Of course, I know no one would injure her on purpose. But better safe than sorry."

Besides being on the jet, Logan had yet to even be close enough to his daughter to touch her. Part of him didn't want to. This piece of him, he decides, could be fear. Maybe resentment. What happened to her, he realizes somewhere in his head, isn't his fault. However, he cannot help but feel a tremendous amount of guilt. She exists because of him. She shares his DNA. He did not purposely or even accidentally bring her into this world. But she's here and it's because of him.

"I'm not good with kids," he mutters, not even looking at X-23 as he speaks. "Especially not with babies." He frowns, standing up. "I'm not what she needs," before quickly adding. "Or who she needs."

*This isn't your fault, Logan. You are a good man. Don't berate yourself over this. You've done nothing wrong.*

Logan ignores Charles, too overwhelmed at this point to give an actual shit about the man being in his head again. Instead he folds his arms, standing against the wall wishing he had brought another beer with him. Or hell, he'd drink anything right now. Just to have something to do that didn't involve him feeling a sense of self loathing over the fact that his curse, or rather mutation, had been passed to a very undeserving person.

"She's your daughter," Storm places her hand on Logan's arm. "You haven't even touched her."

Hank is walking towards him before he even has a moment to process it. Before he realizes it, the tiny, blanket burrito is placed carefully in his arms. He stiffens, briefly feeling stunned before it wears off and he can collect his thoughts.

She's light, much lighter than he would have ever thought possible. He can see her features so much better now than he could before in the Blackbird. Despite he could only see her face, the rest of her being hidden by the blanket, it's enough. What little hair she has is dark, face a much healthier color than it had appeared in Transigen. It's then, when she opens up her eyes, he feels his heart skips a beat.

She stares up at him, or rather, is looking upward at least. Her irises are incredibly dark, a much deeper brown than his own. Whether they'll stay like that, he's not sure. Again, he's new to the baby thing. But as his heart pounds, bouncing from his chest to his stomach up and down like a basketball, he has a feeling that he hasn't experienced in decades.

Love.

It scares him. Terrifies him to death. But for the life of him, he can't turn away from her gaze. He can merely just look back, feeling tongue tied like an idiot. And in this moment. At this sudden point in time. He vows never to let anything happen to her. That, if need be, he'd give his life. Kill for her. Christ, he had just met her and already he felt like a melted popsicle on a hot summer's day. He's her father. A parenthood he had just become aware of that day. And yet, it feels as if he has been waiting and ready for this for decades. Centuries.

Life was going to change. How, he didn't know. But he'll take it one step at a time. And as he keeps watching her, even when her eyes begin to close once more from exhaustion, his heart swells. Something very uncharacteristically to him. He says nothing though. If anyone could hear his softness, at least it was Charles. It could be worse. It could be Scott Summers.

But none of that matters. Not at this moment. And while he briefly lets his guard down and enjoys a second of feeling like a normal person. Someone who has actually has someone to care about. Who may, he hopes, ultimately care about him in return.

Yet, life's good moments are just that. Brief instances. What events the future holds will not only affect Logan, but the human and mutant population as a whole. Happiness can easily become undone and in its place something far, far worse. And as Logan holds his daughter, the other mutants observing, none know of or expect the ever ticking time bomb whose detonation is unknown.


	3. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow...I seriously wasn't expecting this to be so long. But it needed to be of a good length to really get the story started. And for those who are wondering, not for quite awhile, but events from the Logan movie will eventually take place-changed of course seeing as this story changes the course of what have you. It would mean so much if you could take a moment to leave a review/comment, a kudos, heck following, favorite-ing, and bookmarks are very much loved. It seriously gives me the motivation to continue knowing that people are actually, in fact, reading this. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed! Until next time! -Jen

Logan's mutation allows him many beneficial advantages that most mutants lack. Among, of course, his Adamantium claws, his ability to heal has proved itself to be of great worth. Gun shots. Diseases. Hell, he not only survived the detonation itself, but the extreme radiation of the atomic bomb dropped on Nagasaki, Japan. His body's recovery rate has always been up to par.

Yet, with all of that success in mind, his powers were now suddenly faced with a new enemy. Something that they really hadn't dealt with all that much before. A beast that had Logan stumbling around the hallways of the mansion with bloodshot eyes and a weary expression. Had him mumbling unintelligible words of what one might assume is an attempt at soothing at the small, but very vocal, and very unhappy baby in his arms. A monster with a definite, distasteful name. Sleep deprivation.

"C'mon, kid, for the love of Christ go to sleep," Logan almost begs, shifting the wailing infant in his arms. "It's fucking three in the morning. How the hell haven't you tired yourself out?! If you have another mutation that keeps you from sleeping…"

He's too exhausted to even finish his train of thought, resorting instead to rocking his daughter despite how sore his arms feel from this repeated action. The baby had only been at the mansion for a day or so now. And, because he was just that lucky, had been able to get four, maybe five hours of restless sleep at most. But the infant mutant's relentlessness was wearing him down and making him remember why exactly he had never wanted kids in the first place. But here he was, more lifeless than a zombie, trying to hush a child he had only just learned was his.

"Still no success?"

Logan nearly jumps at the unexpected question, miraculously not drawing his claws, for the baby's sake, as he whips around to face none other than Jean Grey herself. She stands before him, sporting a blue robe that falls just passed her knees and a pair of fuzzy, white slippers. Her deep, red hair draping too perfectly over her shoulders for someone who has been sleeping in bed. Not that it mattered. Hell, she could've been swimming in sewage and he'd still find her absolutely breathtaking.

"Logan?"

He immediately snaps back into reality, hoping that the heat that traveled up to his face did not create an evident blush for her to see. Jean merely continues to smile at him, arms crossed over her chest as her gaze flickers down to the baby. While her crying had finally ceased, the infant's small noises maintained the uncertainty of whether or not the wails would restart. Letting out a long, overdue exhale, Logan's gaze meets the telepathic woman giving her a small, tired smirk.

"Shouldn't you be cuddled in bed with Scott, or have you finally had enough of his big boy goggles poking you while you try to sleep?"

Jean's smile doesn't falter as she rolls her eyes. "Clearly you need sleep, usually your jabs are more creative than that." She shakes her head as Logan snorts. "You know, you still haven't picked out a name for her. It's been a few days and she can't be referred to as baby or infant forever. And certainly not X-23."

"Can't decide between Banshee or Tornado Siren," he snorts when Jean gives him a look. "What? I'm not good at these things. I wasn't expecting to be thrown into the role of Mr. Mom. And besides," he looks down at the baby. "Knowing me, I'd probably pick out something stupid and she'll be teased for the rest of her life. Or hate me and kill me. Maybe both."

"Well, I am sure something will come," the telepath says with some assurance. "I know it's so sudden and it's not like knowing you are going to become a parent several months before it happens, but you adjust well to anything better than anyone else I know." She pauses, seemingly thinking for a moment. "...Depending on what said thing is. Okay, you eventually manage to make things work."

He huffs, shrugging his shoulders that feel much heavier than they should. The threat of unconsciousness looms over his head, sleepiness clouding over his thought process. Hell, even the floor was starting to look like an incredibly comfortable place to nap. Jean, now appearing to notice the other mutant's fatigue, gives him a sympathetic look. She holds out her hands and it takes Logan a minute to realize she wants the baby.

"Give me the baby and go get some sleep," she says, continuing before Logan has a chance to rebut. "I'm not asking, I'm telling. And if you try to give me an argument, I'll be forced to use my powers to make you think otherwise."

A moment of silence falls between the two, Jean's stare not leaving Logan's as she waits for a reply. Finally, sighing deeply in defeat, he carefully hands his daughter over to the woman. The telepath smiles, shushing the infant when she starts to fuss. Logan blinks tiredly, seeming to struggle to figure out what to do next.

"Go," Jean says gently, resting a hand on his shoulder. "Before you collapse."

"Wake me up if you need me to take her," he mumbles, words slurring. "Or if you just wanna come hang out in my room. I won't tell Scott if you don't."

Jean gives a snort, shaking her head before nudging him. "Go," she repeats. "I'll take good care of her."

Logan mumbles something, but it's too quiet and slurred for Jean to comprehend. She watches as he shuffles down the hallway, slightly concerned that at any moment he might collapse and remain unconscious there in the hallway. Something that she knew would be absolutely terrifying for the students of the school to discover when they left their rooms in the morning for breakfast. When Jean feels confident enough that the man made it successfully back to bed, she lets out a small sigh, peering down at the baby cradled in her arms.

"You're in for a wild ride here," she whispers, staring down at the baby. "There is never a dull moment when you're at Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters. But that's what makes us unique and fun. And in the case of your father...well...that will definitely be something." Jean's mouth curves into a gentle smile as she notices the infant looking up at her, almost as if she could understand her words. "Welcome to your new home, little one."

xXx

"I'm sure as hell not wearing that!"

The expression of pure disgust on Logan's face as he glares at the bright pink, floral patterned baby carrier Storm holds up is almost too comical for both her and Jean to bear. Somehow both women had managed to convince their male counterpart to go baby shopping with them. Perhaps it worked because he was too exhausted to argue. Or maybe he was actually beginning to take this seriously. Whatever the case, they were now standing together in one of the many stores they would explore that day inside of the large mall.

"Why not?" Jean presses, clearly enjoying his overreaction to something so trivial. "I think it compliments you nicely. It gives you more of an...approachable look."

"I'd rather have Magneto yank my Adamantium claws out of my ass than go around looking like some pansy," he growls, folding his arms over his chest. "There's a reason car seats and strollers were invented." Logan's eyes flicker over to the infant who stares in return from her new seat. "Sorry, kid, but I'm not wearing a baby backpack."

"Well, it's going into the cart nonetheless," the telepath replies, tossing it into the basket. "Who knows, it might be of use at some point."

Ignoring Logan's frown, Jean began to push the cart, Storm keeping up with her pace as Logan trails behind. He didn't know why the two women couldn't have done this by themselves. It's not like he knows anything about shopping, much less when it comes to kids. But he had let them drag him out under the belief it wouldn't take long. Which, he now realizes, is far from that case.

"It never hit me how many cute outfits were out there for babies," Storm says with a smile, holding up a collection of onesies. "I'm starting to feel baby crazy and I'm not even her mother." She plops them into the cart, her attention drawing to another section. "Look at their nursery section! The bedding options, wall art, decorations…"

"I'm not turning my room into a nursery," Logan interjected. "She can deal with just a crib, it's not like she has an opinion either way."

But some of the items found their way to the shopping cart anyway and Logan, too fed up at this point to argue, just allows it to happen. It's their money that's being wasted. And they couldn't blame him when he went about throwing them away later. He had given them multiple warnings after all. So he lets them do what they want, hoping that perhaps it would make this whole trip end faster.

When Storm and Jean go off to look at something that Logan is sure he mostly likely will not give a damn about, he decides to stay back with the cart, remaining with the baby. He exhales, rubbing the side of his face tiredly. The phrase, "sleeping like a baby" was full of absolute shit. There had been so far no sleep on either his or X-23's part. And yet, while the thought of curling up in one of the nearby cribs somehow sounded appealing, the one who should be wanting the bed for sleeping is watching him intently instead.

"You know, there's this great thing called sleep," he says, eyeing his daughter. "And if you try it for more than several minutes, it's actually really cool." The infant merely blinks and Logan lets out a long sigh. "Christ, I'm talking to a baby, this insomnia thing is messing with my head."

"What a cutie," comes a feminine voice from behind. "Is she yours?"

Turning, Logan sees a woman standing before him. His eyes scan over her, making a mental note of the weird sling she sports that is somehow supporting an infant much larger than his inside. She gives him a friendly smile, taking a step forward to seemingly admire his daughter. A strange feeling of discomfort comes over the mutant as he watches the woman ogling his child. It's a ridiculous feeling he knows, and yet he almost wants to reach forward and yank the cart away from her prying eyes.

"Yeah," the words sounding much harsher than he intended. "She is."

The woman, not appearing to have picked up his tone, continues to smile as she glances down at her own baby before returning her gaze to Logan.

"How many months is she," she asks, her tone sickeningly friendly to the mutant whose lack of sleep left him with an immense feeling of irritation.

"Don't know," he says truthfully.

"Oh," her smile falls slightly, a look of uncertainty crossing her features. "Well," she exclaims, almost seeming to struggle with keeping a pleasant voice. "What's her name? It must be beautiful seeing as she is such a doll!"

"Doesn't have one yet," he answers dryly. "Any other questions?"

The woman places a hand on her infant as if attempting to protect him from Logan. Pressing her lips together, she nods at him without another word, pulling her cart behind her at a rather quick pace. At that moment, Jean and Storm finally return, both carrying god knows what in their arms. Catching a glance at the retreating woman, Storm gives Logan a look of curiosity?

"What was that about?" She asks, Jean also taking notice of the woman before she disappeared. "...Did something happen?"

"Just someone who needed to mind her own damn business," he shrugs, taking note of everything in both of the women's arms. "Are we done or do we have to call Charles and ask to loan money in order to buy this whole place?"

xXx

The baby's sleeping, much to her father's relief, when they finally arrive back at the mansion. After Jean turns off the engine, Logan is the first to get out. Quietly, he opens the car door and, surprising for a man of his size and strength, manages to remove the infant seat without any sound whatsoever. He glances down at his daughter, secretly finding the pouty face she's making in her sleep pretty damn adorable.

"Take her inside," Storm whispers, pulling Logan from his train of thought. "Jean and I can start bringing stuff in. We can get Scott or some of the other adults and older students to help if need be."

"You sure?" He asks, looking at both of the women before turning his attention to the many bags that sat in the back. "I can get her inside and then come out to help."

Jean merely shook her head, "We can handle it," she assures him. "Go get her situated before she wakes up."

Logan nods, mumbling a word of thanks as he carefully walks, keeping in mind not to jostle her, up the steps and into the school. He flinches when the sounds of overly excited students meets his ears. It's then he remembers that it's Saturday, Charles always having classes dismissed over the weekend before resuming once more on Mondays.

Cursing to himself, he tries to hurry as best he can to his room before one of the students manages to rouse the baby. Luck thankfully on his side, he makes it into the bedroom and closes the door with a soft click.

Sighing, Logan moves over to his bed and, once more with the utmost care, sets the car seat down on the mattress. Briefly the infant begins to stir causing the older mutant to fall completely still. Once he's sure she isn't going to wake up, he slowly lowers himself beside her, take a much needed sitting break. Momentarily, he closes his eyes, the feeling of complete exhaustion rushing over him relentlessly. To him, taking a nap sounds spectacular. Hell, if he could, he'd even consider going into hibernation like actual wolverines in a heartbeat. Well, perhaps not that far, but his body was craving sleep far more than any other needs.

"You're seriously wearing me out, kid," he murmurs, eyeing the baby as her chest rises and falls with each breath. "Not about to let me catch a break, are you?"

He snorts to himself shaking his head. He was doing it again, talking to the infant as if she could actually understand each word. It's a silly concept, he realizes that, and yet, somewhere in the back of his mind, he actually enjoys speaking to her. She couldn't, and certainly wouldn't be able to comprehend his words for quite awhile, but it's still nice thought. Then there's the added bonus that she can't talk back. But, he wouldn't mind the least bit when she's finally able to.

"To be honest with you, it's been years since I've felt this drained," he continues, looking to his child. "Now that I really think about it, maybe it's been as far back as when I was a kid." He pauses, trying to recall the old memories from centuries before. "Back in Canada where I grew up, my brother-your uncle I guess, Victor, and I would go to our grandparents during the summer. They lived on a cattle ranch and every morning, my grandfather, his name was Joseph, would wake us up bright and early to help out with the livestock and herding the cows from pasture to pasture."

Logan pauses, watching the infant carefully before he's completely sure she's still fast asleep and not rudely awakened by his recollections.

"It was tiresome, especially when Victor didn't do his part. But I couldn't really complain about it, my grandfather would whip us both regardless of who was to blame about the chores not being finished," he exhales, lips forming into a small smile. "But no matter what, even when we were in trouble with our grandfather, my grandmother, Laura, always gave us complete affection. I can't even remember if she even got the slightest displeased with us."

Like a light bulb clicking the instant someone pulls its chain, a thought sparks in Logan's mind. He looks at his daughter, seemingly studying her over like an art student would do when being faced with a historical masterpiece. He smirks, a rather pleased expression coming across his features.

"Laura," he says, playing with the name as if to see if it felt right. "Laura Howlett." He nods to himself, his smile widening as his attention returns to his daughter. "What do you think? Does Laura sound good?"

As if in response, Laura's lips part in such a way that it looks like she's smiling.

"So it's settled," he grins. "Laura Howlett it is."

And just like that, the label of X-23 was completely stripped away, and in its place a strong, well deserved name forever locked into place.

Laura.


	4. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Once again, much thanks to you all! Sorry for this being short and perhaps not as up to par, exams are approaching for me and I am overwhelmed with papers and internship stuff. I also graduate in May. But with that in mind, I love this story and I want to get a little something out, so here's to another chapter! (PS: Kudos and comments are very loved and appreciated because it means you guys like and are reading the story!---or lets me realize you are lol)

Chapter Three

SMACK!

Logan frowns around his mug of coffee as Laura, now what Hank had presumed to be eight or so months old, brings her chubby hands down on the pieces of dry cereal that had been designated as her breakfast. She smiles in delight, completely unaware of her father's displeasure as she relentlessly continues to crush the helpless circles of wheat.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

"Cheerios go into your mouth, kid," he exhales, watching as his daughter slides her palms across the table of her high chair, knocking the crushed pieces onto the floor. "Not, well, everywhere else…" She laughs, giving him a wide, nearly toothless grin that makes it hard to keep a stern expression. "You're lucky you're damn cute and my kid, otherwise this wouldn't normally slide."

The infant lets out a loud, happy squeal that causes her father to wince at the volume. Despite having weeks to learn and adjust to her mannerisms, her shrieks, whether done so in delight or anguish, still bounced sharply against his eardrums. Logan breathes, brows knitting as he tries to ride out the ringing in his head. Laura, oblivious to her father's pain, babbles to herself before her attention turns to a solo piece of cereal that sticks to the side of her wrist that, without a moment's hesitation, finds itself promptly shoved into her mouth.

"Well, it's quite lovely to see that someone is gleeful and alert this Monday morning."

Logan turns to see Charles wheeling himself into the room, the man's ever present smile still gracing his aged features. He rolls up to where Laura sits cheerfully in her highchair, smiling even wider when she "graciously" drops a handful of her breakfast onto his lap. Shaking his head, her father steps forward and lifts the baby from the seat, the infant letting out sounds of discontent. It's only when she leans forward in Logan's arms, reaching towards the professor does she settle down after the telepath takes her-after, of course, scooping up the bits of cereal across his pants and laying them back on the highchair tray.

"Sometimes I think she likes you more than me," he comments, somewhat joking as Laura chews on her hand, leaving trails of drool down her chin. "She seems happier to see you at least."

"Now you and I both know that isn't true in the least bit," Charles replies, remaining rather neutral when the infant smears her wet hand across his shirt. "You're her father, you mean the most to her. It'll become more apparent as she grows older and is able to comprehend things."

As if in response, Laura begins to grow restless in Charles's arms, now choosing to reach for her parent instead. Logan gives a lopsided grin, taking his daughter back from the professor only to frown slightly when her drool covered fingers grip his nose before patting against his mouth. He sighs, shaking his head as he adjusts her in such a way where she can't assault him with her saliva. He meets the telepath's gaze when her hand wraps around his ear, wincing slightly as her tiny nails dig into his skin-he really needed to clip those.

"I should probably go change her diaper," he says, adjusting Laura in his arms. "And put her into some actual clothes rather than letting her stay in her pajamas. Not that she cares either way, but Jean and Storm have made a big deal multiple times about me needing to dress her right. And by right, they mean having her wear at least five different outfits a day. Seems like a waste of laundry to me, except when she has a poop explosion...which happens a lot."

"In that case," Charles smiles. "I'll leave you to your plans. If you need me, I'll be with Hank. He is helping me with a few adjustments to Cerebro." When Logan raises an eyebrow, he adds. "I've noticed a minute problem when searching for other mutants," he explains. "It's probably nothing, just a small glitch in the system. It's nothing, of course, Hank can't repair. It'll be back up to speed soon enough."

Momentarily, a feeling of discomfort comes over Logan. He is not sure what's brought it on, but he holds Laura closer to his chest. There was something about the professor's words that did not settle within him. But he's pulled from his thoughts when the infant begins to whine, struggling in his grasp. He exhales, shaking his head in a means of snapping himself out of it. He bounces Laura slightly in his arms, giving her a thin smile when their eyes lock.

"Sorry, Bubs," he mumbles, walking with her out of the kitchen. "Just have a lot on my mind. I think I'm going stir-crazy or something. Be glad you're still a baby and don't have to deal with this shit-crap."

Trying to quit his constant use of foul language for the sake of Laura hadn't been an easy challenge. Originally he hadn't seen it as such a big deal, with words of course being just that-words. But even Charles had gotten after him about his swearing, claiming it was not in his daughter's best interest. Again, he hadn't seen it as such a big deal, but listening and obeying the "suggestions" of the other adults had proven to be the only way to get them off his back.

As he carries Laura down one of the corridors, he finds it already bustling with students. Logan curses in his mind as the many children squeeze past him, none seeming to care enough to apologize or mutter an "excuse me" as they trample over his toes, some elbowing him in the side. He's forced to hold his daughter higher in an attempt to keep her from being jostled. Sometimes he forgot actually how many mutants made the mansion their home. Soon, he thinks to himself, Charles will have no choice but to renovate in order to accommodate the ever growing slew of students.

Luck finds him in the form of an open door that goes ignored by the swarms of children. Sucking in a breath, he weaves his way towards the entrance, managing to slip inside before he has the chance to be involved in a mutant pileup. Laura gurgles as he leans against the room's wall, closing his eyes for a few seconds to compose himself. It's when he finally opens them, allowing his gaze to take in the room itself does he realize that he isn't alone.

The room itself, which he recognizes as one of the few unofficial "adult mutant" lounges, holds a single bookshelf and a couch that faces a small television. The occupants on the sofa, Bobby Drake and Rogue, are completely focused on the screen before them, they stares unwavering. By their feet, Kitty Pryde sits cross-legged, her attention too captured by whatever program they are watching. The trio's eyes are so glued to the screen that when the older mutant clears his throat, they all jump.

"Christ," Bobby breathes, glaring at Logan. "Ever heard of knocking?"

"Ever heard of watching your tone," he grunts in response, walking over to the three younger mutants. "What are you watching anyway? Hope you are cool with waiting until lunch to eat, the locusts have probably consumed everything in the dining hall by now."

"I'm not hungry," replies Kitty, her voice lacking its usual spunk. "I just...I don't understand…"

Logan's brows knit together in an expression that is not brought on by the fact that Laura's yanking his ear, but rather by how ominous the phasing mutant was acting. He'd never seen Kitty upset like this. If anything, the only time he ever remembered her being the slightest bit displeased was when Kurt Wagner consumed her box of chocolate truffles which, of course, he argued wasn't his fault seeing as there was no name on it. And even then, she wasn't truly upset-most likely because he was feeling nice and went to get her a new box himself. The damn school had him softening up far too much for his liking.

"What're you talking about," he finally asks, breaking the silence. "Don't understand what?"

It's at that moment that Rogue speaks for the first time, turning to look at Logan. For a moment, he is taken aback with how drawn her expression is. She appears to be sick, or about to be at least. Concern floods over the older mutant as he absentmindedly, once again, shifts his child in his arms. Something was wrong and whatever it was had shivers crawling down Logan's spine.

"That," she whispers, pointing at the television.

For the first time since he entered the room, Logan's eyes fix on the screen. Without even the slightest chance to prepare, his line of vision is bombarded with images of what appears to be a small building, now adorned with ropes of yellow caution tape. Around its perimeter, the flashing blue and red lights from the countless cop cars and ambulances is almost too bright for him to focus on what was happening.

The images are quickly replaced by a live-feed that features a newscasters whose face is so expressionless, it's hard to determine if she feels sympathy or indifferent towards the situation. She stands in front of the area of the certain crime, fingers gripping her microphone tightly.

"Breaking news in Massachusetts that is being called a hate crime," she pauses, inhaling. "Here, late last night at the Second Street Bookstore in Charleston, Boston, a book signing event was held for the critically acclaimed author and mutant rights activist, Sandra Perkins, in honor of her new book, "The Mute in Mutation". According to reports, an armed gunman entered the building and opened fire on the occupants before turning the weapon on himself. Seven people, including Perkins and three mutants, were killed. Fifteen people were hospitalized, five with possibly life threatening injuries. As the investigation continues, we will keep you updated."

The cut to commercials seemingly comes out of nowhere, breaking Logan from his statue-like state. He blinks, letting out a long breath he hadn't realized he was holding. Tearing his gaze from the screen, he clearly sees the heavy blow the report had on the other three. Kitty's noticeably shaking, knees drawn up to her chin while Rogue turns into Bobby's chest making it difficult to see if she's crying. The only one who is completely at peace and oblivious is Laura, sucking on a piece of her father's shirt that her tiny fingers grasp onto.

Logan's mouth feels dry and his tongue heavy, and yet, he knows he should be the one to say something to break the uncomfortably long silence. But before he even has a chance, there's a click and over the intercom, Charles's voice sounds. On the surface, he's tone appears cheerful, so much so that if Logan didn't know the man so well, he wouldn't have been able to pick up the hidden strain that laces each word that passes through his lips.

"I hope everyone is enjoying their weekend so far. If all the teachers and other adults could convene in my office for an impromptu meeting, I would be most appreciative. Thank you all and continue to have a good day."

When the intercom shuts off, Logan feels a pit in his stomach. But he can identify why, no matter how hard he tries. He had been through wars and seen death more times than he was able to properly count. But after this, seeing a hate crime against mutants, while not unheard of, was causing his stomach to twists. He breathes through his nose, trying to clear his head. Of anyone, he could handle this. Handle anything.

Laura makes a sound from his arms, breaking him from this train of thought. He looks down at her. At her dark brown eyes. At the soft, mahogany hair that covers her head. To her tiny, drool covered lips that are formed into a large, happy smile.

And the pit grows bigger.


	5. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys enjoy! Comments are appreciated! Also I tried to mention characters I plan to play around with in this story. If there others you'd like to see, let me know. I'd like to do Pietro, but the movie "Peter" version of him (since he amuses me). Any thoughts? Until next time! -Jen

Despite making his way to Charles's study almost immediately after hearing the announcement—seeing as his first destination had been to take Laura to her crib—Logan is still one of the adults to file in last. The combination of the uncomfortable silence and thick tension brings about a strange feeling of claustrophobia as the mutant moves to stand against the wall. For a moment, he takes in atmosphere around him, taking note of all who too are present by the professor's mandatory "request".

On the opposite side of the room, Jean, along with Storm, have taken to standing against the wall, their eyes unmoved from their fixed gaze on Charles. On the couch, squashed side by side, sit Kitty, Kurt, and Jubilee-the latter seemingly focused on a stain that has made its home on her pants. The remaining chairs are shared between Rogue, Bobby, and finally Colossus, whose seat is bending dangerous close to the point of breaking from his weight alone. Along with Scott and Hank, who have positioned themselves close to the professor, the number of occupants in the room only intensifies Logan's need for more air and personal space.

"This is the third incident in the past few months," Scott's the first to break the silence, his arms folded tightly over his chest. "It's getting worse out there, Charles. Not to sound at all like Magneto, but what happens if and when we witness something here in New York? We have to have some sort of game plan, for the students' sake."

"And what exactly do you suggest," Logan responds somewhat irritably. "Treat this like they did during the Cold War with bomb drills? Practice with the kids to duck and cover whenever there is a hate crime against mutants committed?"

"It's way too early for you to start shit with me, Logan," the other man replies, now beginning to sound pissed.

"You're one to talk."

"Can both of you deal with the presence of one another like adults for once?" Jean cuts in, voice laced with a "if you two don't quit it, I will give you the worst migraine you've ever experienced in your life" tone. "There are more important things at hand than your raging, masculine egos."

"Jean's right," Charles finally speaks, wheeling himself from behind his desk to seat himself closer to the others. "On giving our utmost focus and attention on what has been occurring. First and foremost, we have to take into account the safety of the children. For now, I think it's best we try our hardest in not instilling panic among the students. Perhaps monitoring the media reports on such crimes as to keep the children from seeing them."

"So we're going to keep everything that's happening a secret," Bobby frowns. "And just let them think everything is peachy?"

Charles lets out a long, tired sigh. For the first time since he entered the room, Logan notices how truly worn out the professor looks. His face is drawn, almost pallor that is much further than his usual, lively features. It didn't help any that dark circles had bagged underneath each eye, and Logan couldn't help but wonder if the man had gotten any sleep. Rarely had the mutant seen the professor this concerned, or to the point where he wasn't able to hide it well.

"Charles?" Logan ventures, eyeing the man with concern. "Are you okay?"

"Hm?" The telepath looks at the man seemingly in a daze. The millisecond of confusion quickly dissipates as the professor snaps back into reality. "Oh, yes, of course. I apologize, I've been giving everything that has been going a lot of thought. I suppose it's got me a bit out of mind." He gives a weak attempt at a smile that only makes Logan's frown deepen. "Shall we finish this up? I know you all must have your own matters to attend to."

The urge to further question Charles's well-being begs to leave Logan's mouth, but he holds his tongue knowing that the man would only continue to feign that his current state was completely fine. Once more the room is filled with conversations that jump from one comment to the next, so much so that Logan finds it hard to follow which person's words.

Instead, he takes to pulling his phone from his pocket, unlocking the device with a quick brush of his finger. He plays around with the buttons, still getting used to the damn, upgraded technology he had been "urged" to get by Kitty. If his old, perfectly capable of everything he needed, cell hadn't met its untimely demise-which he was certain was foul play-this thing would've belonged to someone else. Though, he couldn't completely complain, there was one thing that it came in handy for. Tapping on an app, he's greeted by the image of his daughter in her crib, thankfully fast asleep. It made for a good baby monitor, that much he'd give it.

"How is she?"

Logan jumps slightly in surprise at the unexpected question. When, in the past, if someone had startled him, immediately his claws would shoot out ready to face any combat he might've come face to face with. Now, having Laura, his defensive actions weren't as dangerous as before. For her sake, solely due to the fact that he didn't want to accidentally slice his daughter into unidentifiable ribbons.

"Sorry," Storm says with great sincerity when the other mutant whips around to face her. "I didn't mean to catch you off guard."

"You didn't," he lies, taking a moment to crack his fingers. "And she's fine, just sleeping. Guess Cheerios will do that to a person."

She chuckles and for the first time since arriving in Charles's office, Logan offers a small smile. Of the few people he truly got along with at the school, putting it mildly, Ororo was one. She was kind, understanding, and usually never pissed him off-and coming from him, that was quite the compliment. And on top of everything else, she was good with Laura, often taking her off his hands so he could get some much needed sleep. And, though he'd never admit it out loud, he possibly saw her more than just a friend. But again, he was not one to show any emotion when it could easily be avoided.

"I should go," her words causing Logan to snap back into reality. "I don't like leaving an entire school of mutant children unattended too long. It's never fun when you have to put a fire out in a room or figure out how to prevent students from falling from the ceiling because someone decided to smash holes of plasma through it."

"Tell me about it," he breathes. "Had a kid yesterday start a rain forest in the bathroom. I used to be a lumberman and even then I didn't have to cut down that many trees."

"So that explains why there was yellow tape across the entrance. I thought the toilet was clogged or something," she gives a small snort. "Hey, at least we can say that our job is exciting and unpredictable."

"I think you and I have different opinions on whether or not we view that statement as a positive thing."

She gives him a small smirk before nudging him in his shoulder. He offers her a wry smile in return, watching as she turns away from him and heads towards the door. Just as she's about to cross over the threshold, she looks back at him. He meets her expression, curious at her unexpected pause. Storm opens her mouth as if to say something, but decides to merely close it again, lips pressed into a thin line.

His brow furrows in confusion as he's left to wonder what it was that the woman had neglected to say to him. Exhaling, he shakes his head, making his way towards the door leading out of the study. Right as he has one foot out the door, Charles calls out to him, causing him to look back at the man in the wheelchair.

"Logan," the telepath says, in an almost hesitating tone.

"Yeah?"

"...I...I really appreciate your help here at the school," the older mutant responds. "And I trust you of all people to protect the children, perhaps more than I do of the other adults in this facility." There's another pause, Charles's gaze still locked on Logan's. "It helps out me at ease knowing that I can rely on you and the others. I suppose I'm attempting to say is, I hold great faith in you. Thank you."

Logan is taken aback with the odd, random speech given by the old man. What had brought it on, he hadn't a clue, but something about it didn't settle right within him. Almost like something was off. That Charles knows more than he lets on. But he, as before, is very well aware that the telepath would refrain from giving a penny, hell, a million dollars, for his thoughts.

"You don't need to thank me," he finally says. "But sure, no problem, I guess."

"I'll see you later today then," Charles states, his voice sounding a little more relieved as he makes his way back behind his desk. "Give Laura a hug for me."

Logan nods his head, mumbling something incoherent as he steps into the corridor, closing the office door behind him. Thoughts muddle within his head, tidbits of conversations and unanswered questions trying to piece together for some sort of information. But nothing comes to him as he makes his way down the long stretch of hallway.

So he sighs heavily, pushing everything to the back of his mind. He'd give it no further thought, for now. And as the sounds of students going about their day fill his ears, he allows his mind to drift to thoughts of an upcoming football game he plans to watch and how he'll manage to avoid having Charles, or rather, anyone who might nark on him, seeing him sneaking in a few beers. Completely and absolutely unaware of the limited and blissful days he has left before everything goes to hell.


	6. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys enjoy! If you could take a moment of your time and leave a comment, it would mean the world! Until next time! -Jen

"Can you stop teasing my kid with a laser pointer. She's not a damn cat."

For five minutes. That's how long he had been gone. Five minutes to take a bathroom break. And now, here he was, standing in the entrance way of one of the many recreation rooms where he had left and entrusted Laura's care to Jubilee and Peter with the understanding they'd watch her for the short time he'd need to take a good piss. But apparently, their idea of "babysitting" involves using a laser pointer to flash a red light on the ground for his kid to crawl after.

"I don't see why you're so uptight," Peter says nonchalantly, continuing to flash the light about in great amusement. "She's getting exercise. You should thank us. We found a way to keep her entertained for free. Well, I mean, free as in you pay us for discovering this idea."

"And she's completely safe," Jubilee adds, her mouth upturned into a nervous smile as Logan glares at both of the younger mutants without any sign of softening up. "You don't have to even worry about her choking on something like you do with toys!"

Laura bumps her head against one of the table legs that "coincidentally" has the bright, red circle dancing across its surface. Peter disappears before the infant even gets the chance to let out a wail, leaving Jubilee alone with the evidence that caused the accident in her lap. Her eyes flicker down to the pointer and then at the older mutant as he goes to pick up his inconsolable daughter. The young woman's fingers clench around the device, knuckles white as Logan's attention returns to her, anger visible in his features.

"Sorry," the words comes out in a soft, sheepish tone. "I'll just...go now…"

She hurries out of the room, almost knocking into Logan when her socks cause her to slip across the wooden floor. Thankfully, Jubilee catches herself, an audible sigh of relief meeting Logan's ears as she disappears from sight-probably going off to find Peter and give him a well deserved earful. Hell to the concept of giving them the title of "young adults", they still acted like teenagers. Well, their young age and maturity level implied that. He grumbles to himself in between the hushing he does to soothe Laura.

"This looks like you're gonna be left with a knot," the older mutant comments, eyeing the small swell on his daughter's forehead. "But hopefully it'll go away soon enough."

Laura's crying has subsided by now, the sounds now replaced by those associated with hiccups. She chews on one of her fists, a cheek smooshed against the shoulder of her father. By the time they make it to the kitchen to grab an ice pack, Laura is staring at her father with a wide, nearly toothless smile-for what it's worth, she's a pretty damn, tough kid. Nevertheless, he takes a few cubes of ice, wrapping them in a towel that he tries to hold against the injury of his now wriggling, restless child.

"Logan, I'm so glad I found you. I…" Beast's voice trails off as Logan turns, the blue mutant taking sight of the infant. "What happened? Is Laura alright?"

"Peter and Jubilee happened," Logan replies in an aggravated tone. "She knocked her head against the side of a table. There's a lump on her forehead, but she's not seizing or whatever...I guess that's a good thing."

However, he doesn't argue when Beast approaches and, after sliding a manilla envelope under his arm, takes Laura and gives her a good look over. When she smiles, patting the fur on Hank's face, he chuckles and shakes his head, handing the infant back to Logan. Though he refrains from admitting it, a great wave of relief washes over the other mutant knowing the doctor didn't seem to show any concern about something out of the ordinary. He shifts the baby in his arms, somewhat fighting her to keep the ice pack over the spot.

"You said you were look for me," Logan asks, grunting as Laura accidentally backhands him in his left eye. "For the love of Christ, kid, can you settle down for once? I'm trying to help you…" Another whack, this time managing to hit his cornea causing Hank to smirk in amusement. Logan doesn't.

"I came across something I thought you might be interested in seeing," Beast answers, finally grasping the mysterious envelope he had brought when first running into Logan. "I'm not sure how this went unnoticed for so long. Or, to be quite frank, how we managed to misplace it to begin with. But I suppose better late than never."

For a moment, Logan hesitates, eyeing the folder with slight uncertainty. He's not sure why, but something feels off about this. Like he's about to find out information a part of him hasn't really considered not wanting to know until now. And yet, the greater half is morbidly curious. Without commenting, Logan takes the object from Hank's grasp, shifting Laura so he can better hold her without allowing her the opportunity to snatch and destroy the contents.

"What is this?"

"Documents on Laura," Hank answers, eyes fixed on Logan as the other mutant begins to thumb through the pages. "On everything about her. Genetics. Linage. Everything."

"How the hell did this disappear in the first place," he growls, surprised by both how angry he sounds and feels. "Isn't shit like this important to have on file or something? And why the fuck did no one even tell me there was stuff on my kid in the first place? I thought we were basically going in blind on some intuition Charles had!"

"A lot was lost in the chaos during the Transigen rescue mission. Laura's file was among of the many misplaced," Beast's tone is so calm, Logan has to fight the urge to sock him in the face. Combat with a baby in tow isn't exactly the best idea. "The fact that we were even able to locate Laura's file is a miracle in itself. In the past several months that I've been digging through things, very few have turned up."

He doesn't realize how hard he's gripping Laura's envelope until his gaze flickers down to the crinkling form in his unintentional fist. Relaxing his fingers, Logan exhales before lifting his stare to meet Hank's. The other mutant looks at him sympathetically, almost as annoyingly meaningful as Charles's is, and he has to press his lips into a firm line to keep from lashing out again. What the hell was going on with him? Shouldn't he have some curiosity and wonder over being granted access to know more about his child? Why did he have this sinking, twisting weight in his gut that made him want nothing more than to toss these papers into a fire?

"Take your time and look over things," Hank says, his voice pulling Logan back into reality. "I need to file a rather excessive quantity of data as it is." There's a pause and for a moment, the blue mutant appears to take notice of the other man's apprehensiveness.

"I'm fine," Logan states bluntly, denying Beast the opportunity to speak. "I'll skim through this and give it back to you. I don't want to screw up your information collecting or whatever the hell it's called." He shifts Laura, much to her displeasure, when she tries to snatch the envelope. "See ya."

Hank calls after him, but Logan's too preoccupied with his own thoughts to hear him-not that he would even answer if had, for that matter. Numbness. Mind hazy. Somehow, Laura's gotten her drool on the outside of the folder by the time they enter the bedroom. She doesn't seem to mind in the least bit when the older mutant places her down in her crib, attention immediately drawn to the singing, blinking toy that finds itself beside her. Taking a seat on the edge of his bed, all while trying to drown out the all too familiar tune of Mary Had a Little Lamb, brings himself to open the file.

**********************************

Property of Transigen (Laboratory Archives)

DO NOT REPLICATE

Project: Weapon X Expansion Program

Subject: X-23

Sex: Female

Species: Mutant

Blood Type: D+ Mutated

Surrogate: Sarah Kinney (Deceased)

Genetic Donor: Weapon X

Paternal DNA: James Howlett (Unknown)

Code Name: Wolverine

**********************************

That's enough. That's all he needed to see. He can't bring himself to delve in further, choosing instead to close folder and cast it aside. Now he could identify that feeling which tugged at him. Guilt. Blame. Until that very moment when Hank approached him in the kitchen, he had managed to mostly suppress the thoughts of Laura's history prior to finding her. An experiment. That's what she was to them. A lab rat. And her mother, this Sarah, a human incubator that was not given a second thought the minute Laura entered the world and she, in turn, died.

Sarah. The mother of his child. The woman he never knew. The person he could not apologize to for his part in her demise-despite not having any knowledge of what was going on. Who he would never be able to thank for giving him his daughter. And he hates himself. But it isn't mainly for what Sarah had to go through. No. He loathes the fact that none of it mattered if he got Laura in return. He cares for her so much. Loves her deeply. And the idea of losing her is just unfathomable.

For the first time since eyeing the file, Logan looks over to the crib. The wall it sits against is painted a soft lavender-a stark contrast to the neutral tones of the rest of the room. There's a tree, one of those giant stick-on designs that Kitty had insisted would go perfectly with Laura's one sided nursery. It's simple enough, well, more so bearable. And there, laying on her back, is Laura. His Laura. The baby who smiles every time he goes to pick her up. This time he holds her close, inhaling the mild scent of baby powder. She's safe and here. Here with him. Always.

When dinner rolls around, Logan tosses the file in front of Hank. Deciding then and there to make himself focus on the present. Laura's smashing mashed potatoes onto her face. Creating a mess as usual. And in his mind, he makes a mental note that he really needs to invest in better bibs.


	7. Chapter Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time for some excitement! Comments are greatly loved and appreciated!

There's a clear, significant difference, outlook wise, when someone is made to wake up far too early than they would like. Being roused from a deep sleep because of Laura's cries was one thing. She, of course, is his daughter. It never mattered how exhausted or out of energy he was, hearing his child's wails of distress was a good enough reason to awaken from the deepest of sleeps. Even if her displeasure was merely a product of boredom and her desire to be freed from the confines of her crib. That he could deal with. That he _had_ dealt with. But he sure as hell could _not_ deal with this hell on Earth he was being flung into. A field trip.

"Watch it!" Logan growls as a group of young students, who have taken to roughhousing, bump into one of Charles's various glass shelves that hold what can only be assumed as precious artifacts to the professor. It shakes slightly, but thankfully doesn't do much more than that. Why the telepath kept things such as this in a figurative (and sometimes even literal) war zone, he'd never know. "Keep it outside."

It's evident that none of the children at fault take notice to the older man's words as they continue to hurry, shoving past one another with accompanying laughs towards the mansion's front doors. Logan inhales deeply, holding his breath for a few, long seconds before exhaling. If he had a real say in the decisions of the school, there would be a student populace cut off number. Charles somehow manages to successfully collect at least a half dozen new mutant kids a day. Okay, maybe not _that_ many, but it sure seemed like it. And though he'd never admit it out loud and in words, he too had a soft spot for the children. Well, depending on his mood, of course.

"They're just excited," Jean says, giving the other mutant a mixed expression of amusement and sympathy. "It's rare any of the classes get to have a day of learning outside of the mansion, much less the entire school."

Logan looks the telekinetic mutant up and down, momentarily appreciating the deep red locks that fall past her shoulders and splay perfectly across the top of her blouse. It's only when he catches Jean eyeing him curiously that he suddenly remembers the woman is telepathic and most certainly had already scanned his mind. He turns his head, clearing his throat as he tries, and most likely is failing at, hiding his embarrassment. Much to his relief, and most likely due to the woman sparing him anymore mortification, Jean does not bring up his ogling. Instead, she immediately redirects the subject of conversation elsewhere.

"Where's Laura," she questions, Logan finally finding the courage to meet her eyes. "I'm surprised she's not here with you."

"Still asleep," he replies, mouth twitching into a small frown as, what can only be assumed as ivy, wraps around his ankle.

His eyes lock with the young mutant in question almost instantly, the color in the kid's face draining away in turn. With a sheepish expression, the boy draws back the dark vines. Out of the corner of his eye, Logan notices a group of children snickering, the plant attack evidently meant for them. Of course, the quiet laughing disappears the minute the students see the irate glare burned across the Adamantium claw bearing man. Before he can step forward to berate them, he feels Jean's hand rest on his shoulders.

"Don't," she says gently. "They didn't mean anything by it." She holds up her hand before he has a chance to argue his point. "Children," she reminds him. "They can't help it."

He grumbles something inaudible in response, but Jean chooses to ignore it. Instead, her eyes flicker down to the clipboard and to the long list of students. Christ, there had to be at least sixty names from Logan's rough calculation and that was only the first page. Charles really needed to put a cap on how many applicants he accepts.

But he wouldn't, the man's too damn generous and selfless...basically Mutant Jesus. Logan shakes his head, briefly thinking about how annoying it'll be when the eminent construction for another wing finally happens. At this point, they might as well open up a small village. Possibly large town. Hell, maybe a city. By now, he wouldn't be surprised.

"I'm gonna go get the baby," he says, more so to himself than Jean. "Don't wait up." He sure as hell can hold some hope that all of the vehicles will be filled by the time he makes it outside. "If people have to use my truck, don't let them screw with the infant seat. That thing's shit to get together."

At least three students collide into Logan as he pushes through the swarm of hurrying students. One, much to his displeasure, had been toying with a golf ball sized sphere of electricity...that, upon running into Logan, smashed into his crotch head on. God, until that moment, he thought that he knew what real pain felt like. Now, with his newly electrocuted nuts, he was proved otherwise...not that he could really even think clearly at that point. Thankfully, he was completely fine with being the parent to only one child. Even with his healing abilities, Logan's quite certain his fried nuts will ever be the same.

"Son of a bitch!" He hisses through clenched teeth. "I swear to whatever higher power, if someone slams into me one more time…"

Luckily, fate gives him a moment of peace and Logan manages to get to his room with injured, but still intact testicles. Laura's already sitting up by the time he enters, her face lighting up with her usually ever present smile when she sees him. He returns the gesture with an unintentional grimace, but his daughter is none the wiser to her father's present state.

"I'm glad one of us is having a good morning," the older mutant says, his words almost muted by the loud, happy babbling of the infant. "If you give your old man a break today, I'd much appreciate it. I could do without poop explosions or you somehow managing to get messy."

Slobber covered hands wipe against his face as Logan lifts the baby from the confines of her crib. As if on cue, the moment he manages to get a good hold on her, the all too familiar expression of pure concentration crosses her now, scrunched, red faced features. The smell that follows is almost horribly potent enough that her father actually considers if he'd take another shock to the balls rather than face what would most certainly be the literal hell of all diapers. He makes a mental note to himself that tonight, he'll enjoy a beer or two as an award for his courageous actions-or rather, for remaining sane by the end of the day.

* * *

"There's an entire aquarium full of animals out there and all you guys want to do is stay in the gift shop."

It isn't a question, more so of a remark as Logan watches his assigned group of kids happily explore the wonders of the over priced, cheaply made items in the ocean themed souvenir shop. At least it's easy enough to keep an eye on all of them, there's a positive. However, he knows well enough that the trip was planned as a learning experience and window shopping didn't fall into the educational category.

Meanwhile, sitting in the baby carrier strapped across his chest, a very drowsy Laura tries her best to fend off sleep. At first, Logan held a lot of resentment towards the bright pink, floral patterned device he'd have to sport-seeing as it felt like a kick to his manhood, but now it proved to be a godsend. One less thing to worry about, even if it did take away from his rugged appearance. But it holds Laura well enough and she seems to enjoy it, so maybe it's not as horrible as he originally led himself to believe.

_Hello New York Aquarium guests!_ The unexpected voice over the intercom catches Logan by surprise, the volume far louder than it perhaps should be. _We hope you are enjoying your day so far! In fifteen minutes, there will be a live feeding for our seals so we highly recommend that you make your way to the designated area so that you and your family can witness this fun event._

As if someone rang a dinner bell, Logan's suddenly rushed by the formally, preoccupied children who seem to have instantly forgotten the various knick knacks they'd been eyeing. Already knowing the question, or rather, pleading, about to be posed to him he holds up his hand as a means to shield himself from the assured bombardments of overlapping conversations.

"We can go," he says slowly. "But no racing or using any powers that would get us in...well, let's act normal and...respectful I guess."

Laura's lost to the world when they finally make it to the seal exhibition-which is, as he expected, already overcrowded. Before he can even comment, his assigned students had already pushed through the mass of people and disappeared. Cursing quietly to himself, Logan begins to look around, hoping to see someone he recognizes. And, much to his luck (for the first time that day) his gaze meets Storm's.

"How're things?" She asks, sounding slightly out of breath from making her way to him. "Hank and the Professor are back there," she gestures behind her. "...At least they had been." Ororo smiles and Logan cannot help but give her a small, half smile in return.

"Learned a lot about how pricey the gift shop is," Storm raises an eyebrow curiously and Logan, in turn, shrugs. "Hey," he states. "Least I kept them all together and in one piece...until now." He looks around only to see more guests filing in. "What about you?"

"Stopped a kid from trying to sneak a starfish into his pocket," she smirks. "But that was the only exciting event I've had to deal with."

Logan nods thoughtfully before his attention is drawn to the front where the glass enclosure sits. Despite being in the way back, he can clearly make out the shapes of the seals perched on rocks in anticipation for their meal. Murmurs of excitement wash across the crowd as a smiling employee enters into the exhibit, a bucket of raw fish in hand. As she goes to grab one, most likely planning to make the poor animal do a trick as a means of payment for his meal, a large, deafening sound ricochets off the walls and the glass surface of the display.

For a brief moment, everything is still as if the massive crowd of individuals has tapered down to a few. Then, in the distance, Logan sees Hank McCoy. He stands there, stare unfocused as something dark and wet blossoms from his chest, the shade a deep contrast to his blue fur. He sways slightly. Once. Twice. And quietly, face completely blank of any emotions, he collapses.

Then all Hell breaks loose.


End file.
